


Faith, Hope...and Charity

by vjs2259



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M, gapfiller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-19
Updated: 2007-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/pseuds/vjs2259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gapfiller for Confessions and Lamentations. The first part, Faith and Hope, takes place in the isolation chamber with the Markabs, and is from Lennier's POV. The second part, Charity, takes place in John's quarters after Delenn and Lennier are released, and is from John's POV. This is my favorite episode, and this is an early take on what happened between these three characters and what revelations might have occurred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith, Hope...and Charity

 

‘Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’

Bible, Hebrews 11:1

 

‘Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all.’

Life XXXII, Emily Dickinson

 

‘And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.’

Bible,1 Corinthians 13:13

 

* * *

 

 

Lennier gently shook his mentor’s shoulder. A short while ago she had finally succumbed to exhaustion, but she had started to move restlessly and murmur words he couldn’t quite catch. She sounded distraught, even in her sleep, and he felt it was time to wake her.

 

“Delenn, wake up. Another candle has burned down. I’ve found some water for us.”

 

The Minbari ambassador stirred, and opened her weary green eyes. “Another candle? How long have we been here, Lennier? How long since the last Markab died?”

 

“I do not know. A while. Look, I found a water bottle; there’s still some liquid in it.”

 

“You take it. I don’t want any. It’s all tainted by death now.”

 

“I think you should try. I can go without longer than you can now.” He hesitated, “I mean, now things have changed.”

 

“You mean now I have changed, do you not?” She laughed slightly, “You are right though. I have changed. This..” and she gestured about her at the dead Markab, “this has changed me.”

 

The dead lay all around them, piled randomly in places. Some lay where they fell. In the beginning, the Markab had laid out the dead in neat rows, with their arms straight at their sides, and their eyes respectfully closed. As more and more bodies accumulated, and there were less Markabs able to help, the arrangements grew less organized, more haphazard. Families were separated and the rituals of passing were not spoken. The two Minbari had tried to learn the words of the rituals in order to comfort the dying, but did not get much beyond learning the phrase ‘May Nallal ease your path beyond’ phonetically in the Markab tongue. Neither was quite sure they were saying the same thing each time. Still, the Markab seemed to appreciate the effort, as well as the blankets and little comforts they had brought with them.

 

Lennier lit another candle. They had no means of telling the passage of time, so they were lighting one candle after another to keep track as well as they could. Of course, neither knew how long one of the candles took to burn down, so the number was relative, but it was comforting to speak in terms of ‘three candles ago’ or ‘lie down for a candle or two.’ The Markab had insisted on no means of communication being allowed in the isolation chamber, and had broken the comsystem inside the chamber. This left them unable to let anyone know what had happened inside, and also prevented them from learning what was happening outside.

 

He continued pressing the water bottle on Delenn and she finally accepted it, but insisted on saving some back for him to take later when he felt the need. To himself, he vowed he would not touch it. Any water remaining had to be kept for Delenn. Since her transformation, she no longer had the stamina she once possessed. If it was merely a matter of will, she would outlast any Minbari, but her hybrid physiology betrayed her mental strength, and her body could not withstand prolonged deprivation of food and water. It hadn’t been that long, really. Lennier himself was not feeling any physical needs as of yet, but the stress of the situation and the emotional toll it had taken was weakening them both.

 

Feeling the need to keep her mind engaged, Lennier asked thoughtfully, “Delenn, why did we come here? Why did you feel the need to do this thing?”

 

Delenn looked down at her slender hands, dusty and stained with she knew not what, and replied, “I felt someone had to look after these people…had to show they cared. It is what we are taught; the highest goal is to serve others. And it is the purpose of this station, is it not? To learn to live together in peace, to come to care for one another, and appreciate one another’s place in the Universe?”

 

“But we are coming into the time of the Great War! You will be needed in the struggle. I do not understand why you took this risk upon yourself.”

 

“Who else should take it? I felt a calling to do this. And if the Universe wants me here, I should obey that call. If I am needed in the battles to come, I will survive. If not, then I may not. What is meant to happen will happen.” She turned the question back on him. “Why did you ask to come with me, Lennier? Why are you here?”

 

“I came to be with you. I have promised to stay by your side in all things. This may very well be the last thing you do in this life. How could I remain behind?”

 

She turned away, a look of guilt washing over her face. “How, indeed?”

 

Lennier went on. “What do you think will happen to us? Will they leave us here?” The words ‘to die’ hung in the air, although they remained unspoken.

 

“John,” She started to say, then flushed and continued, “I mean, Captain Sheridan, will do what he can. But if the disease has proven to be communicable across species, we would be carriers at the very least. He said he might not be able to let us out.” Her voice grew more distressed as she went on, “We do not even know if any of them are still alive, if the disease has spread through the station. There could be riots, violence…”

 

“Mr. Garibaldi will be able to control it. He is extremely capable. And Dr. Franklin is no doubt working on some sort of medication to prevent infection. I am sure they are all fine.” Lennier said consolingly. He had noted her use of the Captain’s first name, and was uncertain what that meant. It made him uneasy.

 

“I just wish I understood what lessons the Universe wishes to learn by placing us here. And what of the Markab..so many innocents dead from disease, compounded by ignorance and fear. Are we to learn despair? Is the purpose of this..” and she gestured at the piles of decomposing bodies all around them, “to accustom us to death on a grand scale so we will be prepared for the outcome of war?”

 

“I think the purpose is to teach us hope,” answered Lennier softly.

 

“Hope! How can you say that! What hope can you find in this devastation!”

 

“Hope that the example set by the Markab will encourage others in a similar position to seek help rather than hide their condition. Hope that we will learn from this…learn something, anything, that could prevent this happening again, or give some meaning to what has happened.”

 

“Yes, perhaps we can hope for all that,” she responded wistfully. “I do not know if it will happen that way. And I do not know if we will survive to see whether it does.”

 

“Well, I hope we do,” replied Lennier with a slight smile. Then, trying to lighten the mood, he went on, “I have been studying Earth literature as you suggested. There was one poet who wrote a verse on hope that I found interesting. She writes simple metaphors that sometimes strike almost a Minbari note.”

 

“Can you remember any of it?”

 

“Perhaps some..” He thought for a moment, then went on to quote:

 

‘Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all.’

 

He paused, “There’s more to it than that, but that is all I can recall right now.”

 

“ ‘The thing with feathers’…that is a lovely image. And like a bird, it may stop with us for a little while, but it’s stay may be fleeting. Yet the song is always there if we have the will to listen.”

 

Lennier went on, “I mentioned to Mr. Garibaldi that I was studying Earth poetry, and he mentioned this poet’s work can be set to music. I asked him if he could sing some of it, but he declined. He had the oddest expression on his face, part smile and part grimace.”

 

“Mr. Garibaldi is an odd man. I will never forget his teaching me limericks when I first came here. It was only later that I learned many of the rhymes had double meanings in the Earth tongue. Still, it sounds like this poet might be simliar to our tee’la singers. I will have to look up her work when we get back…” Her voice trailed off as their thoughts returned to their situation, and the possibility they would never be going back. They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

 

“You should try and get some more sleep, Delenn. I would like to meditate on these issues. Perhaps I will see things more clearly afterwards.”

 

She placed her hand on his arm and pressed it lightly, “You see things quite clearly already. Have I told you lately how much I appreciate your support in all things?”

 

He smiled, “You have not, but I know it anyway. Now try to rest. They will come, and I will be here until they do.”

 

Leaning back onto the pile of blankets he had shaped into a slanting bed of sorts, she nodded wearily, and replied, her eyes already half-closed, “I see them in my sleep, Lennier. Sometimes I think I will always see them, reaching out, calling me, asking for the help I could not give.”

 

He gently covered her with a blanket and said, “Their cries will fade with time. Have faith.”

 

“So much death..” her eyes closed, and her breathing became soft and regular. He watched her for a moment, wondering if he would see her true face. Then he turned away; it was not his place to look. He dropped into a light trance, trying to sort out his feelings about what had happened. Surrounded by death, he sought the meaning in what life he had left. Truthfully, he did not expect to survive this trial. The humans were fearful, and he did not believe they would take the risk of letting them out without a cure in hand. Still, he knew they would try their best, and perhaps they would be in time. His main worry was that Delenn would succumb before him. He was not sure he could live with that outcome.

 

He was startled out of his trance by a voice, speaking in heart-broken tones. His mentor was apparently dreaming again, and it did not appear to be a pleasant experience. He leaned closer to catch her words.

 

“Do not leave me here, John, please. Do not leave me alone,” she pleaded, unshed tears staining her soft voice.

 

His heart turned to stone between heartbeats. Alone? He was here. He was always there for her. He was here now, risking disease and death to stay by her side! She had called him John. It had surprised him the first time she had used the Captain’s given name. It implied a informality between them of which he had been unaware. It seemed it was how she thought of Sheridan privately. He wondered if she often thought of him, privately. Then his own thoughts began to spiral out of control. She was the bridge between their peoples. Suppose there was more to that role than her transformation. Suppose she was to join with a human, to truly unite their races. The idea upset him more than he would have imagined. It would be a noble gesture, although an intensely disturbing one.

 

He heard noises outside the door that walled them in with the dead. As it creaked open, the light stung his eyes, and he was momentarily blinded. Delenn was awake in an instant, and he turned instinctively to help her to her feet. She clung to him in her weakened state, and he had to support her as they stumbled towards their rescuers. Sheridan was there, his eyes never leaving Delenn. He heard her breathe the Captain’s name, her heart in her voice. For the first time since he had entered her service, he let her go, dropping her arm to push forward towards the other humans. Dr. Franklin asked him whether there was anyone left alive. He answered in the negative and continued his journey, his eyes swimming with tears. He felt Ivanova’s hand on his shoulder but could not respond to her gesture. He didn’t need to turn and witness the Captain and Delenn’s embrace. It was burned into his mind’s eye, and would return to torment him over and over, when he was alone, in the dark.

 

* * *

 

Sheridan waited impatiently as the the two Security guards muscled open the wheel-lock on the heavy door which led to the Markab’s self-imposed isolation chamber. It creaked loudly as they finally tugged it open, and the guards stood aside to let the members of the command staff enter first. They had their nightsticks out in case of trouble. The first thing they all noticed was the eerie silence. Four thousand beings had entered the chamber a short while before, but there was no sound to be heard except a fan whirring softly overhead. Then the smell hit them; sweet, cloying. It was the smell of death and decay. As their eyes adjusted to the dim bluish light from overhead and the flames from the few remaining candles, they saw the unthinkable. Bodies were piled upon bodies, and nothing moved or breathed that they could see. The guards fanned out behind them, peering closely at the piles to see if they could detect any movement.

 

His mind a jumble of horror and mounting anxiety, Sheridan stepped further into the room, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from Franklin and the tinkling of the test tubes Ivanova carried. Then he saw them. Two figures on the far side of the room rose slowly from the floor where they had been crouching, holding on to each other tightly. The two Minbari moved gingerly forward, stumbling, trying to avoid stepping on any of the corpses. Lennier was half supporting, half carrying Delenn, whose face was a mask of shock and pain. Sheridan saw rather than heard her mouth his name, and then Lennier moved forward, towards Stephen, answering his questions, leaving her to make her way alone. Sheridan’s anxiety turned to relief, and then to pity in an instant. He stood for a moment torn between wanting to grab hold of her and assure himself she was really there and alive, and the worry that he would offend or upset her. She stood in front of him, swaying in exhaustion, and he reached forward instinctively to steady her. She moved into the circle of his arms, and her hands came up to caress his face, just as they had when she had told him she was determined to go into this hell. When she spoke his name, as he had asked her to do, it sent a bolt of lightning through him. It was as if she had found his true name, and spoken it directly to his soul. “John,” she said again, with such agony behind the one word, that he embraced her without worrying about what it might look like or what it would mean. Someone he cared for was in pain, and that was all that mattered. She leaned into him, her mouth open in a silent scream.

 

Delenn leaned into Sheriden’s embrace, reveling in his warmth. She had been so cold, even with the blankets Lennier had wrapped around her. She pressed her face into his jacket. It blocked the scent of death that had surrounded her for what seemed like forever. His heartbeat was strong and pounded into her ears with the reassuring cadence of life.

Relief washed over her and unbound her strained muscles. Suddenly her legs weakened and she felt herself falling, only to be caught and held firmly yet gently by John.

 

“I’m getting you out of here,” he whispered into her hair. Then louder, to Stephen, he said, “Can you take charge of this, Stephen? I’ll bring her by MedLab later.” Then over the doctor’s protestations, he led her out of the chamber. He had to half carry her to the elevator leading to blue sector, and jamming his identicard in the override slot, directed the car to go directly to the floor with his quarters. It was closer, and she was starting to lose it, alternately sobbing and gasping for breath. She wouldn’t want anyone to see her like this, and he didn’t intend to let it happen. He could take her to her own quarters later in the evening, or to MedLab, but first he had to get her somewhere where she could let go in private.

 

He got her inside his door, and lowered her onto the couch, then turned to set the passcode on his door to ‘private’. Now no one could enter without his express authorization. Normally the command staff could override his doorlock, but right now even they weren’t welcome. He sat down beside her, taking her small hands between his two large ones. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

 

She shook her head. Silent tears were running down her face. “There are no words.”

 

He put an arm around her. “Don’t take this wrong, but I think you would feel better after a shower.” She looked up in alarm. “You can use mine. I’ll stay out here and make us some tea. Maybe we can talk a bit then. Or I can take you home?”

 

She shuddered at that idea, “I have no wish to be alone.” Looking up at his concerned face, she attempted a smile, “I will shower. You are right. Getting the smell off my skin, and out of my hair, would be welcome. Thank you.”

 

She stood and with a bit of support, managed to make it into the bedroom. He closed the doors behind her, and returned to the kitchen to put the water on for tea. He was finding it extremely difficult not to think about the fact that there was a nude Delenn in his bedroom…he heard the water start up…in his bathroom. He found himself picturing her, and wondering how she would react if he offered to help. The sound of the alarm signaling the water for tea was boiling brought him down to earth with a bump. He was annoyed with himself for reacting like an adolescent at summer camp, hanging outside the girls’ showers, hoping for a glimpse. He poured the water for tea, then a thought occurred to him…what about clothes? She couldn’t be expected to put back on the outfit she’d worn into the isolation chamber. He considered his options, then went quietly into the bedroom and picked his old bathrobe off the bed and approached the bathroom. The water was still running; she must not be done yet. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door, then opened it a crack. “Delenn?” he queried.

 

“Yes?” an equally hesitant and exhausted voice answered from inside the shower stall.

 

“I’m putting a robe on the hook by the door. I’ll send someone to your quarters to get some clothes. What’s your passcode?”

 

She expelled a sigh of relief, and gave him the code. Surprisingly, she also felt some disappointment. She grimaced, what had she expected, that he would ask to join her? As she washed the last of the soap from her hair, she realized that she had entertained a faint hope that he would.

 

John went back to the kitchen and finished preparing the tea, pouring it into two large black mugs, setting them on a tray with milk and sugar, and finally placing the tray on the large low table in front of the couch. He sat down and took up his mug. Lord, what a day it had been. He hoped Garibaldi had finished cleaning up the last of the groups roaming the station looking for Markabs. They wouldn’t find any now anyway. He assumed the news of what had happened had hit the station grapevine, and everyone knew by now. He heard the water stop, and found his thoughts returning to his guest. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling right now. The depths of compassion that would compel her to do what she’d done must be immense. It was a true act of charity. The noises from his bathroom commanded his attention again, and his thoughts wandered to what she was doing, and what she was wearing, if anything. He took a quick gulp of tea, and swore. It was hot! As he sucked in cold air trying to cool his burnt tongue, his monitor lit up with an incoming message.

 

“Captain, Ivanova here.”

 

“What is it, Commander?” he answered.

 

“I thought you would want to know. Dr. Franklin has almost finished clearing out the bodies of the dead Markab. He will perform some autopsies for confirmation, but all signs point to the plague as the cause of death.”

 

“Good. Has Garibaldi reported in?”

 

“Yes, he says it’s quieted down. The news has gotten out.”

 

“It would. It’s hard to keep a secret on Babylon 5. How’s Lennier?”

 

“Stephen is keeping him in MedLab overnight. He had to tell him a little white lie, and let him think Delenn was there as well. How is she doing, by the way?”

 

“She’s in the shower. I’ll try to talk her into going to see Stephen, but I don’t think she’ll go.”

 

Susan’s face remained impressively impassive at the news that the Minbari ambassador was in the Captain’s shower. “Can I do anything?”

 

“Yes, actually. I need someone to go to Delenn’s quarters and get her something to wear. Her clothes are ruined. I have her passcode.”

 

At that, Susan’s equanimity broke, and her eyebrow rose, “Something to wear? Sir?”

 

John gave her an exasperated look, “She’s in my bathrobe, Susan! Go get her some clothes, all right? The poor woman can’t put the ones she was wearing back on!”

 

Susan nodded and made a note of the passcode, “Yes, sir. I’ll be there within the hour. You’ll probably get a call from Stephen, you know. You’ve cheated him out of a patient.”

 

“He’ll live,” answered John. “I’ll see you soon. And thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome. Ivanova out.”

 

Delenn came out of the bedroom wearing a worn blue bathrobe. It was so large, she had wrapped it practically twice around herself. John felt another spark of interest in what lay beneath, but it was quickly subsumed by the wave of tenderness that washed over him as he caught sight of the bereft expression on her face. She looked like a lost child. He gestured her over to the couch, and sat down beside her, asking her what she took in her tea.

 

After a few moments, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m glad you and Lennier made it. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you in there. It was an amazingly charitable thing to do…”

 

Delenn interrupted, setting her mug down on the table. “It was nothing worth praise, simply something that needed doing. Or that I thought needed doing. At any rate, we were in no real danger.”

 

“You didn’t know that!”

 

“No, I did not know that.” She blinked back tears. “While we were in that awful place, Lennier asked me why I had decided to minister to the Markab. I didn’t have a definite answer for him, just that I felt a call to go. Then I asked him why he had come…”

 

“What did he say?”

 

“To follow me.” She shook her head, a quiet sob escaping. “Can you imagine? Placing himself in what he suspected was mortal danger, just to follow me?”

 

John was a little confused at the direction the conversation was taking, but that was nothing new. When it came to emotional confrontations, he always felt a little at a loss. “Well, he is your aide, and your friend. He admires you, respects your decisions...”

 

“Yes,” Delenn’s voice was fading. She leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. “I am so very tired. Tired of trying to help, and never being able to do anything. I hoped that I could do something for the Markab, even if only to ease their passing. But nothing helped. They all died. One after another after another...” Tears were streaming down her face, her eyes opened to stare inward at a nightmare only she could see.

 

Her voice rose, becoming touched with hysteria, and John realized she was beginning to hyperventilate. He placed his hands one either side of her face, and turned it to face his own. “You have to breathe, Delenn. Try to calm down and breathe. Listen to the sound of my voice. Try to think of nothing else. You’re fine. You’re here with me.”

 

Her breathing slowed as she tried to do as he asked and focus on his voice. It was a lovely voice, she thought, low and sweet. His thumbs gently caressed her temples in a way she found hypnotically pleasurable. She felt she could stay in this position indefinitely.

 

Suddenly the door chimed. “That’ll be Susan with your clothes,” John said. He felt oddly reluctant to interrupt what had been happening between them. He felt he was on the brink of some revelation, that something important that had been hidden was about to reveal itself. He shook his head, “Open,” he called out, and the door slid up and back.

 

“Captain, Ambassador,” Susan nodded slightly to each of them, managing to look completely uninterested in their position relative to one another. “I brought an assortment of clothing, Ambassador. I’m not familiar with Minbari outfits, but I think there will be something suitable here.” She placed a carryall on the chair opposite the couch.

 

“Thank you, Susan,” Delenn replied. “Can you tell me how Lennier is doing?”

 

“Dr. Franklin has him spending the night in MedLab. Stephen said he is exhausted and a little dehydrated, but physically he is in relatively good shape.”

 

“And mentally?”

 

“My feeling is that both of you will probably need some time to deal with what you went through.”

 

Delenn smiled faintly, “That is true.”

 

John stood and took Susan aside, “Anything further to report?” They began to talk in low tones about some details of identifying and transporting the bodies. Delenn had picked up her tea again and was sipping at it gingerly. She caught snatches of the conversation, though she was trying not to listen. It was obvious what they were discussing, and the practicality of the details was infinitely distressing to her. As she became more and more agitated, her hands began to shake uncontrollably. She was having trouble holding onto the mug filled with hot tea, and a drop of two splashed out and onto her wrist, causing her to softly cry out.

 

John turned at the sound, and taking in the situation at a glance, put his hand over hers, steadying the cup and helping her set it on the table. Their eyes met, and she clung to his hand as if to a lifeline. She felt an insane desire to hold his hand against her heart, but he wouldn’t understand what that gesture meant to her people. For a moment, time slowed to a standstill, and they both forgot anyone else was in the room.

 

Susan watched and wondered what exactly was going on. The whole situation was very strange. If two humans were involved, it would be obvious what was happening. The aura of attraction in the room was palpable. She was never sure how to interpret the body language of the Minbari, much less a human-Minbari hybrid. With a flash of sympathetic understanding, she realized maybe Delenn didn’t know how to interpret her own feelings and reactions either. Still, John seemed to intinctively know what to do, and that in itself said a lot about the relationship between them. She abruptly realized the Captain was dismissing her, and replied, “Yes sir. Shall I restrict your calls?”

 

John glanced at Delenn and thought for a moment, “Yes, I’ll let you know when I’m available for anything besides emergencies. I’ll see you next shift. Thanks again, Susan.”

 

After Susan had left, an awkward silence grew between the two of them. They finished their tea, and Delenn rose, picking up the carryall. “May I use your room again to change?”

 

“Of course,” John rose, as she left the living area for his bedroom. He felt a little let down. He wanted so badly to help her, but couldn’t seem to find the right words or actions.

 

When she came back out, except for her still-wet hair, she had assumed the calm persona of the Minbari ambassador. If you didn’t look closely into her eyes, where the pain was still deeply engraved, you might not have an inkling of what she had just been through. John looked at her in admiration; that was a neat trick. Still, he wondered if suppressing her feelings was the best thing for her to do. He asked her to sit down beside him again.

 

Deciding to try another tactic, he finally asked, “Why does it bother you so much that Lennier chose to join you in the isolation chamber?”

 

She was flustered for a moment. “It doesn’t. Not really. I just wish I could be sure he did it for himself, or for them, rather than for me.”

 

“Does it matter? He knew the score. You told me it’s part of your culture to minister to the sick. Why wouldn’t he want to do something?” He didn’t understand why this was upsetting her, but at least he was getting her to talk.

 

“The score? Do you think this is a game?” she replied angrily, dodging the question.

 

“The risks, then. He knew what he was getting into. If he chose to follow your example, what’s wrong with that? It was a selfless act of compassion!”

“I am not selfless! And I do not desire followers!” She had risen to her feet, and was looking at the door, as if longing to escape. Still not facing him, she went on, “I don’t deserve this…you don’t understand.” Sitting back down beside him, looking straight at him, she said, “It was not an act of charity. It was expiation.”

 

He stared at her in disbelief. “Expiation? What sins have you committed…what harm had you done the Markab?”

 

“No harm to them. They are…” she swallowed hard, “They were an inoffensive people to my knowledge. They wove beautiful tapestries, did you know that? There were some hanging in the chamber…we wrapped the children in them when they, when they d-d-” she began to stutter in her distress.

 

He pulled her into his arms, as the tears began again, and stroked her hair, muttering sympathetic noises until she began to calm down. “Whatever you may have done in the past, it can’t be that bad. You’re a good person, always trying to help where you can.” She started to shake her head, and he took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to his. “Take my word on this. You tried. No one could have helped the Markab survive. You may have helped them die more peacefully. You and Lennier certainly did more than anyone else.”

 

“I put Lennier in danger with my folly.”

 

John replied forcefully, “You did not. Lennier is a grown man. He can make his own decisions, and he did. If he choses to follow you, you can accept his choice, or reject his help. But you can’t, and shouldn’t, make the choice for him.”

 

Delenn wiped the tears from her face with the open palm of her hand. “You are right. He is capable of making his own decisions. I am foolish to wish I had protected him from this.”

 

“No, you are caring and compassionate. It’s never easy being a leader and asking others to make sacrifices…”

 

“I am no leader,” her voice was tight with some emotion he couldn’t identify. She rose and went to the door, “I had best be going.”

 

“Will you be all right? You could sleep here; I’ll take the couch.”

 

She smiled at him, “Haven’t we caused enough speculation today?”

 

He smile back, “A little gossip never hurt anyone. Being seen with you could only enhance my reputation.”

 

After a moment, she perceived the compliment and flushed. “Well, I thank you for the tea, and the shower, and for getting my clothes. Oh, I forgot the carryall.”

 

“I’ll bring it by tomorrow, if you don’t need anything in it tonight.” Privately he thought that would give him a reason to see her again.

 

“All right.” She hesitated by the door, and turned back. He was standing just behind her, and she found herself standing very close to him. “I no longer lead, and have no wish to follow,” and here she gave him a brilliant smile, “But I very much enjoy your company on the journey we have begun.” She reached up and caressed his jawline, “Good night, John.”

 

And then she was gone. He stood for a moment, at a loss for words, then said to himself, “Here’s hoping it’s a long, long journey.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
